Page 84 of Cold as Stone
The moonlight from the window highlights every muscle, every scar, every inch of him that I’ve memorized but never get tired of exploring. I run my hands over his chest, feeling his heart race under my palm.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, then laugh at myself. “Is it weird to call a man beautiful?”
“From you? No.” He cups my face gently. “Nothing from you is weird.”
The tenderness in his voice makes my chest tight. I kiss him again, slower this time, savoring the slide of his tongue against mine, the way he groans when I suck on his bottom lip.
“I need you,” I whisper against his mouth.
“You have me.”
“No, I mean—” I push his jeans down, frustrated with the barriers between us. “I need you now.”
He kicks off his jeans and boxers, then lifts me easily, carrying me to the bed. But instead of following me down, he stands at the edge, just looking.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“Just memorizing this.” His hands slide up my legs, from my ankles to my thighs, slowly, reverently. “You in that lingerie. Your hair all wild. That flush on your skin.”
“Less memorizing, more touching.”
He chuckles, but complies, his hands continuing their journey up my body. When he reaches the edge of my panties, he hooks his fingers in them, dragging them down torturously slowly.
“Lee,” I whine, lifting my hips.
“Patience.”
“I left my patience at the club.”
He tosses my panties aside, then spreads my legs wider, settling between them. But instead of touching me where I need him, he kisses the inside of my knee.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” he says against my skin, moving higher with each kiss. “Going to taste every inch of you.”
“Please—”
“Gonna to make you beg,” he continues, his breath hot against my inner thigh. “Make you shake. Make you scream.”
“Big talk,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathless.
He looks up at me, eyes dark with promise. “Want me to prove it?”
“God, yes.”
His mouth is on me then, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed. He wasn’t lying about taking his time—he explores me like he’s got all night, alternating between soft kisses and firm strokes of his tongue, building me up only to back off just before I break.
“Lee, please,” I beg, my hands fisted in his hair.
“Please what?”
“I need—I need?—”
“Tell me.”
“I need to come. Please, I need?—”
He sucks on my clit while sliding two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and I shatter. The orgasm rolls through me in waves, each one more intense than the last, until I’m trembling and gasping his name.
He kisses his way up my body, giving me time to recover. When he reaches my bra, he makes quick work of the clasp, tossing it aside.
